Convalescence
by Pie for President '16
Summary: This story picks up right after the last line of Deathly Hallows. Follow Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they, among many others, begin the recovery process after the Battle of Hogwarts. Might cover nineteen years. Canon pairings, then some others.
1. Chapter 1

Hello, I am back with a rewrite of Convalescence. I have the story planned out for the next eight chapters. Hopefully, this will be more satisfactory, and I will be switching between Harry, Ron, and Hermione's point of view. I am not sure if I will cover nineteen years yet, but I definitely want to go thru the summer of 1998. Thanks **MelodyPond77** for beta-reading!

Enjoy.

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Quite_ honestly, I've had enough trouble for a lifetime._ - Harry Potter, page 749 of Deathly Hallows

Harry was physically, emotionally, and mentally drained at this moment. The one thing that had defined his life and destiny for the past seventeen years, Lord Voldemort, was no more. Harry himself had defeated him just two hours earlier. Looking back at Dumbledore's portrait one last time, he left the headmaster's office and went down the stairs.

He knew Ron and Hermione were close behind; they were always close behind. As much as he wanted to tell them to look after themselves and not worry about him now that everything had changed, he just couldn't. They needed him as much as he needed them; it had always been that way. Harry wasn't himself without Ron and Hermione, and they weren't themselves without him.

Slowly, the trio made their way to the Gryffindor Tower. Along the way, there were cries of joy and shouts of _congratulations_ from occupants of various portraits. Harry ignored all of them, though; all he wanted to do now was get into bed and sleep. He hadn't slept in forty-eight hours, and hadn't had a decent night's sleep in nine months.

At some point, Harry was going to have to face everyone and explain what he had been up to for most of the year. But he wasn't ready to do that, and he knew his two best friends weren't ready to do it either. How was he going to explain what Dumbledore assigned him to do? How was he going to explain that he was on the run with Ron and Hermione, searching for and hoping to defeat pieces of Voldemort's soul?

After what seemed like hours of walking, they finally reached the painting of the Fat Lady. She was celebrating with her friends from neighboring portraits. She currently had a drink in her hand. _It was probably alcohol_, Harry thought, now on the verge of falling asleep on the marble floor. Ron cleared his throat loudly and the Fat Lady looked at the trio.

"Oh, look who it is!" She cried.

"We just want to sleep, please let us in." Hermione said, and Harry noticed she was fighting back a yawn.

"Of course! Go right in, my dears." The portrait swung open and the three stepped into the Gryffindor Common Room. The room remained pretty much the same as it did during the years they _were_ at Hogwarts, though it wasn't as festive as it used to be. The plush maroon sofas still sat by the fireplace, with the coffee table set behind it, and several golden chairs surrounding it.

"It won't be long before it's a madhouse in here." Ron said, and Harry nodded in agreement. Soon, others were going to start walking into the room to start the festivities.

"I'll see you later," Harry said to his friends. He walked across the common room and made his way up the stairs without looking back at Ron and Hermione. He knew they needed time alone to talk, whether it be now or later, it didn't matter. Their lives had revolved around him for too long; it was time for them to focus on themselves as individuals and as a couple.

Once he found the room he would have been in had he gone to Hogwarts that past year, Harry found two untouched beds. One had a maroon "R" on it, and Harry knew this was Ron's bed. He went to the other untouched bed, took off his shoes and pulled back the covers. He couldn't bother with showering now.

Harry fell asleep with his glasses on just seconds after his head hit the pillow. It seemed to be only seconds before he was being shaken awake. Harry opened his eyes and saw Ginny sitting on his bed. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her face was clear of dirt, she had on a fresh change of clothes.

"Ginny," Harry whispered. "What time is it?"

"Half five, everyone is downstairs but Ron and Hermione. They're still sleeping."

Harry sat up in bed, realized he never took his glasses off, and saw two figures lying in Ron's bed. He wondered if they had done anything while he was sleeping and Ginny seemed to have read his mind.

"Come on, let them sleep. We can ask them questions later."

Harry obliged and pulled back the sheets, putting on his shoes. Ginny took his hand, surprising Harry, and led him out of the dormitory and down the stairs. Harry was really confused when it came to Ginny, but he knew they would have a chance to talk later. He still felt bad about leaving her, leading her to think he was dead, not telling her where he had been all those months.

As they made their way down the stairs, Harry could hear commotion coming from several floors below. It sounded as if everyone was laughing and they sounded very cheery. Why were they cheery now? Didn't they realize that they just lost dozens of people in what was possibly the largest battle in Hogwarts history?

Ginny squeezed his hand, and Harry assumed she could sense that he tensed up.

"Later, Harry. Right now, let's just forget." Ginny said quietly, reading his mind.

Harry shook his head, dreading seeing all the people in the common room. He did not want to see anyone right now, he just wanted to hide and be with Ginny. He really missed being in her company. Harry could recall the months he was looking at her dot on the Marauder's Map, wondering if she was faring well in the Death Eater ruled Hogwarts.

Before he knew it, he and Ginny were at the landing. All conversation stopped and everyone turned their eyes on him. At that moment, Harry wished Voldemort had actually succeeded in killing him. He didn't want them looking at him this way. Ginny cleared her throat to break the deafening silence, squeezing his hand once again and guiding him towards her family.

_The Weasleys_, Harry thought, _they lost someone in their own family today and yet, here they were, celebrating. This is wrong!_

Harry saw that none of them were smiling and each one of them was teary-eyed. Molly was a shaking wreck, with Arthur holding her closer than Harry had ever seen him hold her. Percy was staring straight ahead, his eyes glazed over. The only ones absent, besides Fred and Ron, were Bill and Fleur. George had several empty bottles of Odgen's Finest.

Harry observed all the empty bottles of alcohol Ginny noticed this and nudged him in the side, bringing his attention to her. She shook her head firmly, letting him know it wasn't time to ask any questions.

"I'm just putting it to celebrating. I- I-" Ginny choked and Harry put his arm around her.

"It's not going to be easy, Ginny. Nobody ever said war, and the losses that come with it, are easy. Even though we won, we're still grieving."

"Right, but we're not going to grieve now. Tonight, we celebrate!" Ginny put on a smile and summoned two bottles of butterbeer, handing one to Harry.

"Ginny," Harry began but Ginny interrupted him.

"Not now, Harry." Ginny said, her voice cracking but the fake smile she put on never fell. Harry let out a sigh of resignation, knowing that he would have to do the same. As much as he wanted to be hiding out in his dormitory with Ron and Hermione, this was necessary. This was everyone's way of coping, for now, at least.

The hours seemed to drag on, and Harry kept stealing glances towards the stairs for his best friends. He needed them right now, nobody understood what he was thinking or feeling. Talking to people was doing nothing; they were getting annoying. They asked question after question, ranging from how he felt being the savior of the wizarding world to what he had been doing since August. Harry did not want to answer any of this, especially without Ron and Hermione.

Excusing himself from the loud and rowdy crowd, Harry crept through the portrait hole and went down the steps. He didn't know what he was doing now or where he was going. He had to get away from everyone. This was _not_ the time to be celebrating, for Merlin's sake! Harry got the same sensation he had after Sirius' death, when he was alone at the Dursleys.

That summer had been a rough one until Dumbledore had come to pick him up. Harry had just begun shaving and discovered razor blades were for more than getting rid of facial hair. He still had the faint white lines along his wrist, though none of them went deep enough to leave any significant damage. He shuddered at the memory of that summer and the pain he put himself through, he was _not_ going to do that this time.

Harry made his way through the Entrance Hall, not looking at his surroundings. He knew if he had looked inside the Great Hall, saw the damage done from that morning, he'd feel worse. This was the reason people should have been mourning and remembering what had happened that day. Putting the images out of his mind and fighting the feeling of despair, Harry stepped outside, letting fresh air hit him. He inhaled deeply, though there was a faint scent of smoke mixed with blood and death.

He shook his head violently and made his way towards the Quidditch Pitch, hoping it hadn't been terribly damaged in the Battle the night before. As it came closer, Harry could see one part of it had been collapsed, but most of it was still standing. Once he found a suitable broom to fly with, Harry took off around the pitch. He had forgotten how much he loved flying, the sense of relief and freedom it gave him when he wasn't trapped by gravity.


	2. Chapter 2

All right, readers, here is chapter two of this hopefully epic fanfic. There is a _major_ Ronmione shocker, prepare yourselves. This hasn't been betaread by MelMel yet because high school sucks.

Ron and Hermione were left standing by themselves in the Gryffindor Common Room. Thy looked at one another, not saying a word for several minutes. Ron wasn't sure what to do right now, he wanted to sleep but he had questions to ask. Questions for Harry that would have to wait for later, when they had time alone together. Instead of speaking, he took Hermione's hand and guided her towards the stairs.

"I'll see you later." Ron said softly, squeezing her hand and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. He turned to go up the steps, but Hermione didn't let go. Instead, she held on tighter.

"Hermione?"

"I- I can't sleep by myself, Ron. I don't think I could." Hermione told him quietly, looking directly into his blue eyes. Her brown eyes were pleading with him and Ron knew he couldn't deny her his company. They'd been sleeping in close proximity for most of the past nine months, it would feel strange not to have Hermione be the last thing he'd see before closing his eyes.

"Come on." Ron said, leading the way upstairs. They slowly made their way to the seventh year dormitory, numbness beginning to settle in. Once they reached the proper room, Ron pushed the door open and saw there was only one made bed. Three of the others were unmade, and Harry was in the fourth. He knew this unmade bed was his own.

"Are you all right by yourself?" Ron asked tentatively. He wasn't sure if he should have Hermione sleep in his bed or one of the other beds. He wanted to hold her close, but he had no idea how she felt.

"Can I sleep with you?" She asked, looking at the bed longingly. Ron noticed her eyelids were drooping shut and she looked as if she could pass out at any second.

"Sure." Ron said, taking a seat on the bed and removing his blood-stained shoes. Hermione did the same. They would take care of showering at another time, sleep was more important. The couple were asleep within minutes, and it wasn't a peaceful sleep for Ron. His dreams were dark, twisted, reflected the horrors he had endured that past year. Being possessed, walking out on Hermione and Harry, listening to Hermione's pained cries at Malfoy Manor, watching Fred die right before his eyes. He tossed and turned furiously, but never woke.

It wasn't until a few hours later that he was woken by hysterical sobs. Ron opened his eyes and saw Hermione curled up into a ball on the floor by the side of his bed. Ron moved from his bed to the floor, wrapping an arm around Hermione.

"Hermione?"

"I can't do this, Ron. I'm worthless, nothing but a filthy Mudblood." She wailed, but her voice wasn't loud enough to wake Harry. Ron put a hand on her chin and made her look at him.

"Look at me, Hermione. You are _not_ worthless. You're one of the brightest witches ever, forget about what that mad woman said. You're amazing in my eyes, Hermione. I love you and I don't care about what anyone else says. Now come on, let's get back to bed." Ron stood and held out his hand. Hermione looked at it for a minute before taking it.

Once they were situated in bed, Ron held her protectively even though there was nothing to hurt her now. They were safe, Bellatrix was dead. But he still couldn't help that worrying thought deep in the corner of his mind, worry that something could still go wrong.

"Ron?" Hermione said, just as Ron was beginning to drift off into uneasy sleep.

"Yeah?" He murmured.

"There's something I have to tell you, and I'll understand if you're angry."

"I could never be angry at you, Hermione." Ron told her, kissing her bushy hair.

"I was pregnant." She blurted out and Ron tensed up.

_Pregnant?_ He thought.

"Was it mine?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Of course it was! But- but-" Hermione let out a sob and Ron held her close, his temporary worry gone. _Of course it was his baby._

"I didn't realize I was pregnant until we were at Shell Cottage. I woke up in the middle of the night, my abdomen was hurting and there was blood all over the place. I- I lost the baby, Ron."

Ron couldn't believe what he was hearing, Hermione had been pregnant. As he consoled Hermione, Ron realized that it would've been conceived one night in late January, after they had their first proper talk since his return.

"Hermione..." Ron said softly.

"I think being under the Cruciatus Curse killed it, Ron. I'm so sorry, I'm such a horrible person!" Hermione cried, turning around to bury her face in his shirt.

"No, Hermione. You are not a horrible person. I love you and we just weren't ready to be parents anyways. We're only eighteen, we just got done fighting the biggest battle we'll ever have to fight. We have a long way to go before we can begin thinking about children."

"I want to have your children someday, Ron."

"We have ages to talk about it." Ron placed a finger under her chin and lifted it up, so her brown eyes would meet his blue ones.

_Merlin, she's perfect_. He thought, smiling and wiping away the tears with his thumb.

"I really do love you, Hermione. You're bloody brilliant and there's nothing you did wrong. Remember that, all right?"

Hermione shook her head.

"Don't tell me you love me when we're like this, Ron. I love you, too, but the timing is just terrible."

"Oh, like the timing of that kiss was any better?" Ron smirked, causing Hermione to roll her eyes and swat his arm gently

"I really do love you, Ron, but we still have a lot to talk about. We can talk later; for now, let's just enjoy life and each other's company."

"I can do that." Ron said, giving Hermione a kiss and holding her closely.

It was well past nighttime when Ron woke once again. He had no sense of time right now, but it didn't matter; he could hear faint noises coming from seven floors below.

_People must be down in the common room celebrating. Why are they celebrating when we've suffered all these losses?_

Ron lifted his head to look at Harry's bed, but didn't see him there.

_He must have gone downstairs. He should have woken us._

"Wake up," he whispered, nudging Hermione. "We slept the whole afternoon, I think people are celebrating downstairs. Want to check it out?"

Ron really didn't want to get out of bed; he wanted to lay there all night with Hermione. He knew there was a very good chance that they had their whole lives to stay in bed together, but he had to get out of bed and find Harry. He had to do it with Hermione by his side, he couldn't go do it alone. He was worried his best mate might do something stupid, it wouldn't be the first time.

"Ron, what time is it?" Hermione asked as she began to stir.

"No idea, I just know it's late. Come on, let's get up." Ron sat up in bed and put on his shoes as Hermione did the same. They were going to talk some more about their relationship later and about what he just found out that afternoon. How could Hermione not tell him that she had been pregnant with his baby?

A few minutes later, the couple were making their way downstairs. The noise coming from the Common Room grew significantly louder as they made their way down the steps. It was as if half of Hogwarts had been fit into the room and the noise was unbearable by the time they got to the landing.

_This is just wrong_, Ron thought, letting out a sigh. He squeezed Hermione's hand and guided her towards his family. When he approached him, he noticed that George was passed out on a couch with empty bottles of liquor surrounding him.

_Must be his way of coping._ Ron shook his head and let out another sigh. The rest of his family were currently occupied with various people, all of them seemed to have forgotten that they lost Fred earlier that day.

"Do you want me to stay with you, Ron?" Hermione looked at him carefully and Ron nodded, wrapping an arm around her.

"I need you to stay with me, Hermione. We should find Harry; I don't want to stay here."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, and Ron could see the worry in her brown eyes.

"I'm sure."

"We can look for Harry, if that's what you want."

Ron and Hermione made their way through the crowd, looking for their best friend. Even though he really with Harry had woken them up, he understood if Harry wanted to leave them alone. He must have had the idea that they needed time by themselves, but what they needed was him right now. He owed them nothing, they had gone into this whole thing willingly and stood by his side until the very end. They weren't about to stop now.

"Ron! Hermione!" A voice called out to them as Ron guided Hermione around the crowded common room. He was beginning to get irritated, Harry was nowhere to be found and everyone was acting as if there wasn't a care in the world. He understood they had finally defeated Voldemort; well, Harry had with their help. It was mostly Ron and Hermione who had helped him; they were the ones to have been with him for the past year.

Ron turned to see the source of the voice and found Seamus, Parvati, Dean, and Padma making their way over. Seamus had a bottle of Firewhiskey in his hands and an arm draped around Parvati. Dean had a bottle of butterbeer and was sharing it with Padma.

"You did bloody brilliant out there, mates!" Seamus shouted over the noise and when he exhaled on them, Ron caught a whiff of not only Firewhiskey, but also rum. He made a face of disgust, but nobody noticed.

"Tell us what happened this past year!" Padma said, and Dean wrapped an arm around her shoulder so he could stay standing.

"Yeah, you went off on this mysterious adventure and today you appear out of nowhere!"

Ron noticed Hermione biting her lip nervously and squeezed her hand comfortingly.

"Another time, mate." Ron told the group. "We're looking for Harry right now."

"He left an hour ago, no idea where he went!"

Ron and Hermione looked at one another, worry growing on their faces. They knew Harry would probably do something stupid; it was just like him to do that.

_He better not have, or I will_-

"Thank you." Hermione's voice interrupted his thoughts and she pulled him away from the crowd. They hurried through the portrait hole and went down the stairs.

"We must not panic, Ron." Hermione was saying quietly. "Let's not jump to any conclusions. Harry wouldn't do anything rash. We must look at this logically, where would you go to escape from everything that has gone on?"

_The Quidditch Pitch_, Ron thought after a moment.

"I'd say the Quidditch Pitch." He voiced his guess, and Hermione smiled weakly.

"Let's find him, then."

They made their way out of the castle, ignoring the piles of rubble surrounding them on their way through the hall and out the door. There was still bit of light left outside, but there wasn't enough to properly illuminate the grounds. Hermione pulled out her wand and whispered _Lumos_, and they walked towards the Quidditch Pitch. Ron pointed towards the sky, where he could see a figure flying around the partially ruined structure.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted as they got closer.

"It's us, mate!"

A few seconds later, Harry landed and was by their side.

"I'm sorry about just leaving you like that. I assumed you needed the sleep, you definitely need it after everything we've been through. I couldn't stay in there, not with them celebrating. They don't seem to realize we _lost_ people, dozens of them."

Ron could tell Harry was on the verge of crying and it was breaking his own resolve. He had to stay strong for Harry and Hermione, he had to.

"They do, Harry. It just hasn't sunk in for everyone yet." Hermione said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder. Ron shook his head in agreement.

"It'll take some time, but we're here for you. We'll always be here for you, mate."

Hermione pulled Ron towards her and crushed herself against him and Harry, sobbing.

"Forever and always." She cried.

As much as Ron was struggling to breathe in Hermione's grip, he was really grateful for them. He knew Hermione was probably feeling upset at the thought of almost having lost Harry that day, he couldn't imagine what the world would be like without him. They needed him, now more than ever. Ron couldn't fight back the tears anymore, he began sobbing into Hermione's bushy hair, holding her and Harry close.


End file.
